


oh I get lost

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, As you might imagine, Background Relationships, Complicated Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hugs, Jealousy, Speculation, Supportive Relationships, Threats, Unresolved Tension, not terribly Rosalind Price friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 3x07.  Gideon Malick pushes Coulson's Daisy button. Speculative post-episode workin' out my angst fic.<br/>Title from The Head and the Heart's "Lost In My Mind".</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh I get lost

“It's a good thing you like such strong women.”

He used to think he was unflinching.

But he’s not.

This shakes him. Is it a bluff?

He knows a lot of strong women.

And, yet.

“Go ahead, Phil,” Malick gestures at him. “Make your call.”

He pulls out the phone from his pocket, keeping his eyes on the man across the table from him, who quietly sips his scotch.

“Daisy”, he says in a whisper when she answers. “Is everything all right?”

Malick gives him a leering grin.

“Is May with you? Good. I need you both to secure the base. Make sure everyone's accounted for. I'll tell you later.”

He quickly hangs up, as Malick sets down his drink and tilts his head.

“Not going to check on Ms. Price?”

“She's not a part of my team.”

“Not very gentlemanly of you,” Malick says mock-disapprovingly.

“Guess not,” he answers back sharply.

“I was told you wouldn't crack, but I had to see it for myself,” Malick says, pushing back his chair and standing. “After all, I have plans for you.”

The silence in the room becomes somehow more oppressive as he stares up at the man.

“It was nice to meet you, Phil.”

Gideon Malick extends his hand and it takes everything in him to not reach out and crush it with his prosthetic one.

“It's a mistake,” Malick adds, friendly, putting his hand in his pocket. “To get too attached to the things of this world.”

“I don't suppose you’ll tell me what hell that means?” he answers through gritted teeth.

“You'll understand. Soon enough.”

He turns and walks towards the entrance to the hotel lobby, with silent steps.

“Goodnight.”

 

###

 

On the ride home, he contacts Mike on the emergency channel and confirms things at Rosalind's are quiet.

This was all a play to let him know he's a pawn.

To see how he reacts.

He sits back in the hangar seat and shuts his eyes, runs back through his recall of the meeting. Making sure he doesn't lose a single detail.

He panicked and said their names in front of him. Dammit.

Amateurish.

Calling Daisy first, he would've done that anyway, but now Malick knows.

And about him and Rosalind. Somehow that's not a surprise.

What's the connection?

He sees Malick's mouth tell him, "It's a mistake."

He's made a lot of mistakes. Too many.

That's not one of them.

 

###

 

When he explains it to them both, he gets a bit more emotional than he intended.

Agitated all over again.

He can’t stop his hands moving, rubbing his fingers over his prosthetic.

Daisy asks if Rosalind is okay and he stops for a moment, then nods, letting his eyes fall away from her face.

“I'm going to talk to security again,” May answers calmly. “Make sure we're airtight.”

She gives him a steady gaze and then turns to leave.

“I'll run him through our system,” Daisy says, getting up quickly to follow her. “See what that turns up.”

She nods and pics up the pad to leave his office.

“Daisy,” he calls after her.

She stops and he can see the tension in her frame.

"Can you stay?"

Swiveling back to him, she bites her lower lip and rests the pad against her thighs.

“Sure.”

Walking towards him, she sits in the chair across from his, as he taps his fingers against the desk.

“He really got to you, huh?” she says sympathetically, and leans her forearms against his desk.

“Yes. Look, the stuff with Price, I-“

“You _really_ don't have to explain,” she cuts in.

He opens his mouth again.

“ _Really_ , really,” she adds.

He closes it. Sighs.

“Malick knows I contacted you,” he starts again. “I said your name. I slipped. And May's.”

She acknowledges this with a sigh of her own, sitting back and thinking it over.

“What he said about Rosalind,” she asks. “What are your thoughts?”

“That they're connected,” he says, getting up from his desk and coming around to sit in the chair next to hers.

She raises her eyebrows, as he sits down. “That might be a problem.”

“It was always a possibility,” he admits. “I knew that going in.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because me being the target was more simple. All the evidence pointed to me. I just needed to know why. To find out if I could change her mind.”

“Just because he talked to you like that,” she says, “Doesn't make any of it true. You're letting him in your head.”

“Daisy,” he says, looking down at the floor.

Anywhere but at her right now.

“I don't think he's aiming for my head.”

 

###

 

“We’re probably getting close to something. He could be trying to throw you off.”

They stop outside of his quarters, and she glances around for a moment, like they might be seen.

“Don't let him do this to you, Phil.”

She's right. It's late. This doesn't look good.

Even so, wants to reach out to her.

Feel her solid in front of him. It’s been so long since they’ve talked like this.

“He's right about one thing. You're strong.”

“You're strong, too,” she answers.

How to explain? He doesn't feel strong at all right now, but has no right to weigh her down with that, too.

The other thing. It’s so much easier, less complicated.

“Even…if you can't see it from the outside,” she goes on.

He feels her hand over his heart, above the scar there, and meets her eyes.

“I thought I was protecting all of this,” he tells her.

Suddenly, he wants to tell her everything, leans in like her touch is some kind of key.

“Compartmentalization,” she smiles, a little sadly, and takes her hand away. “You said it's easy for you.”

“With everything,” he says, then hesitates.

“Except you.”

That startles her, but he swears there's a flush in her cheeks.

Her brow furrows and she blinks like he's presented her with some impossible riddle.

“None of this is your fault,” he tells her, trying to soften it. He doesn’t want to push her away.

“Some of it is,” she says solidly, staring back at him, her eyes open and searching.

“Some of it’s you.”

There’s a hint of challenge in her voice, something underneath that.

Anger.

“Daisy.”

They both turn, and Lincoln's there.

He has to fight the urge to ask him how much he heard. He doesn’t belong here right now.

Dammit. That's not fair.

“Hey,” Daisy says, with an easy smile towards him. “Can we have a moment?”

His eyes move between them and then back to her.

“Yeah, you know where to find me.”

_Yeah, we all know where to find you, Lincoln-_

“Phil,” she says, catching his attention.

“Maybe try to not make that face every time?”

“Sorry,” he says sincerely, looking at her arms crossed against her chest.

“I should-“ he thumbs at his door behind him.

“Goodnite,” she says gently, and before she can turn away, he moves in to hug her.

Her body stiffens for a moment, and then she slowly melts into his arms, like she’s relearning this over again, pressing her face against his neck.

“We’ll figure this out together, okay?” she whispers to him.

He feels safer already.


End file.
